Reckless
by DrtyDiva
Summary: Winter Jones is suffering under a great many social tribulations. First is an American. Second, she is a Black American, and third she happens to howl at the full moon once a month, and finally she is the love child of Major Channing Channing. With her mother buried she is in London looking to start anew. Too bad she is head over heels in love with a wolf in love with another wolf.


Winter looked at the man with an irritated look on her face. "You don't serve coffee?" she asked again just to make sure she had heard the man correctly. For she couldn't have heard him correctly if he said they didn't serve coffee.

"I begging your pardon miss but this is an English dirigible. We have a full tea service." He said as if that made any sense.

"But why don't you serve coffee too?" she asked.

The man gave her a look before walking off to tend to the other guests. This was getting ridiculous. She could see why her mother opted to stay in America and not follow the father of her child to London. They didn't even have coffee. How on Earth did they function without coffee. Winter started to rethink he rather rash decision to rush off to Great Britain.

Winter sighed and looked out over the cloud coverage. She had been on this journey for nearly three weeks. Who knew it took so long to get from New York to London? She was so very tired of traveling. She was just ready to climb into a soft bed and sleep till she was 18. Which was in two months.

"Prepare for docking," a voice crackled over the loud speaker. She moved away from the window and reclaimed her seat. She buckled in. Her heart pounding. This was it.

She was leaving behind New York and settling down in London. One part of her was excited and one part was filled trepidation. She had no idea how blacks were treated in Great Britain. She just hoped it was a step up from New York.

Winter wasn't particular fussed either way mind you. After the death of her mother she only had one course. Go to her father in London and hoped he wanted her. Hoped he knew who she was. She certainly knew who he was. Her mother had talked of him often.

The dirigible docked and the 1st class passengers were shown off before anyone else. There was something to be said about traveling in style. Winter was glad for the money that her mother had left and the money to made on her way out of New York. Her heart twinged at having sold Jones Manor, but there was no sense in keeping the stately home. Her mother was dead, buried back in Alabama with her folks and Winter was throwing all her chips at her father in London.

Winter only got a few looks from people. She gathered they had never seen a black person before. Or maybe had never seen an American before. Or maybe here in London ladies were supposed to dress like ladies. Winter was dressed in the highest of fashion, for a young man. Soft Hessian boots, pink and white stripped trousers, white shirt, pink waist coat and pink and white stripped frock coat. Her silk cravat was a frothy waterfall at her throat. She felt positively wonderful.

Winter smiled at her fellow passengers nonetheless. The men smiled cheerfully and the woman glared scornfully.

She stood on the docking station to take it all in. This was the unknown land of her father. Great Britain. Winter had only read about the place as her father had hopped the first airship home after he settled matters with her mother.

Winter couldn't be upset with him. Well not a lot. He wasn't married to her mother, and even in America that was still a taboo, and it didn't help that her mother was black and her father white. Even if he was British. That was just not done. Not in public anyways. No one cared that the War of Norther Aggression was over.

On his way out of the door he had proved a mass estate with enough money to make them the richest black family in New York City. It was hush money she knew, but she wasn't going to give the money back.

Her and her mother enjoyed spending the money and living better than they would have lived back in Alabama. Winter had the best tutors that money could buy. She even had white friends. Well they called themselves her friend.

Winter knew better. Their parents wanted them to be friends with Winter to suck money from her mother. For this charity or this poor house or whatever reason. Or to figure out how she had come into her fortune. Black people just didn't have the money that Winter and her mother did.

But people treated her better than some white folks so she didn't complain. Black Americans weren't fairing well in the colonies. Sure they weren't slaves but they were far from free. Never mind the supernatural set. Her mother never let that secret out and she drove into Winter the importance of keeping her mouth shut. Not that Winter was stupid enough to say anything. Winter had eyes, and she could read. She knew what they did to vampires and werewolves when they caught them.

Winter pushed her goggles further up into her hair and looked around.

She had lived her entire life in New York, but London had a different feel. The air had that tale-tell greasy quality to it, but it was heavy with moisture. Winter could feel her pressed hair starting to curl at the ends. This wasn't going to be good. The airship depot was a bustling place, but Winter stepped off the dirigible platform and she caused quite the stir.

Winter was guessed there weren't many blacks running around London. She kept the smile on her face and she looked at everyone.

"Savage with her hair uncovered," One matronly hissed to her husband as they hustled forward.

Winter didn't own a hat. Only white ladies of high breeding had worn hats in America. So Winter didn't pay any of them any mind.

One of the porters gathered up all of her luggage and trailed behind her as she made for the exit. There was no reason to dilly around. The sun was just setting. It was the perfect time to call upon her dad.

A line of carriages waited patiently at the curb once she had walked through the little waiting area. The porter walked up to the one and spoke with the driver.

"Where to miss?" he asked.

"Mayfair please," she told the driver. He handed her up into the carriage before he went off to load all her worldly possessions.

The ride through London was an eyeopening experience for Winter. She had never left New York. Her mother stressed that money was the only thing that kept them from being treated like other blacks, but sometimes not even money could keep her from being attacked or snatched if the mood struck someone.

New York had plenty to keep one occupied so Winter didn't care. There universities, libraries, scientific lectures, concerts, plays and all sorts of things to get up to. Especially when Winter could move seamlessly through society in her simply green dress, thick stockings and buckled shoes. No one paid her any attention when she was in costume.

The horses hooves on the cobbled streets lulled Winter into sleep. She hadn't really slept since her mother's funeral. She still found herself wanting to sob like a babe, but she refused to give into that. No amount of crying was going to bring her mama back.

She was gently shaken away. "We're here miss." the driver said softly. Winter blinked herself awake.

"Thanks." she slid the man a ten pound note. He nearly wet himself when he looked at it. "Did I give you too much?" She didn't understand the conversation from dollars to pounds but the man at the bank in New York had the same expression when she showed him how much she wanted to convert.

She didn't plan on going back to America. Her mother was dead and she was barely 17. She didn't have a legal right to anything. So before the lawyers could show up she sold the house, packed up everything she could carry and hopped the first steamer going to the Old World.

The man nodded, "Much to much miss." he told her.

Winter smiled, "Keep it. For being honest with me." She winked as she hopped out of the carriage. The man handled her things with care and a smile.

She looked up at the stately house. It had a bit more flare than Winter thought a house ought to, but she wasn't an architect. It wasn't like the row houses of Harlem. These London row houses were certainly larger, with neat little gardens in front. These row houses had personalities. No two seemed like their neighbor.

The sidewalk was wide enough for three men to walk shoulder to shoulder without touching anything on the sides.

The city was buzzing with activity. Carriages were rolling left and right. Steam powered contraptions and horse drawn ones. Ladies and gentlemen were strolling about as if the sun was still up. Winter had heard that supernaturals were more out in the open in London than in New York, but she had to see it to believe it. Maybe she could be herself in New York.

Winter moved up the stairs with an air or purpose about her. She knocked loudly on the door. Her heart pounded away in her chest painfully. The heavy white door was pulled open by a shaggy little man. He looked at her and Winter looked at him. Now that she was here she didn't know what to say.

The man didn't quite know what to say. It seemed he had never seen a black before either. Winter got the distinct impression that blacks were completely an American invention. Sure she had read and been told they came from Africa, but that had been so long ago. She certainly seemed to be the only one in London. "Can I help you?" the young man asked after an uncomfortable silence in which he seemed to recover his wits enough to looked outraged at her attire more than her coloring.

"Um I'm Winter Jones. I'm here to see Major Channing Channing." she said in a smile voice. The man held out a empty silver tray. Winter looked at it and looked back at him.

"You calling card Miss." he said slowly.

"Er. What is that?" she asked. The man blinked at her.

"Never mind miss. You can wait in the parlor while I fetch her ladyship." Winter had no idea what the man was talking about, but she followed him into the house.

The man led her down a moonlight bright hallway into a equally moonlit bright parlor. He motioned her to a chair before rushing off to fetch whatever a ladyship was. Winter choose a particularly looking delicious chair. It was the only pink thing in the room. For all her manly clothes and manly pursuits Winter loved the color pink. Much to her mother's amusement and fashion sense.

There was the sound of heavy heels hitting the floor and Winter jumped to her feet. "The Lady Maccon." the door opened said with a flourish. Winter would have giggled if she hadn't been so surprised at what walked into the parlor room.

An impressively tall woman strode into the room with a sleeping child attached to her hip. The woman was olive skinned with a cascade of dark hair twisted around her neck. For all her height Winter's eyes zeroed in on the other person that walked into the room. The other young man that trailed in behind her.

Winter's heart skipped a few beats upon seeing the raven haired young man. He was taller than Winter, but that wasn't hard to do. She was barely four foot seven. He had a young face and was dressed the hilt. Winter hoped she wasn't blushing. On as dark as her she might as well be sending up a flare.

"Good gracious child you are in trousers?" the tall woman asked. She turned to the black hair man beside her. "Is she in trousers Biffy?" Winter wrinkled her nose at the name Biffy. He certainly didn't look like a Biffy.

"My mama bought these for me." Winter said defensively before the one called Biffy could answer.

The woman was startled enough to almost drop the child she was holding. "An American in my house." she said to the assembled men. "What will the Queen say?" the woman handed over the dozing girl, for Winter had been able to get a good look at the little thing, to the man who opened the door. "Take her next door and bring tea around." The woman must be what the door opened had called the ladyship. She was certainly acting as if they had the run of things.

The woman pointed to a chair and Winter sat obediently. Something about the way the woman conducted herself brokered no argument. Winter's mother had had the same air.

"I believe you have better start at the beginning. It is not every day that an American darkens my doorstep." Lady Maccon instructed.

Winter swallowed. "Begging your pardon ma'am I'm just here to see Major Channing." She didn't want to be rude, but she also didn't have to explain herself to anyone about anything.

"Major Channing is currently on assignment so I am afraid you will have to explain yourself to me first and if I like what I hear I am sure Lord Maccon could bring him back in circumstances allow it." The Lady Maccon folded her hands in her lap fully intending to wait all night if possible for Winter to tell her tale.

Winter looked at her and looked at the one called Biffy. The seemed at an impasse. Winter's mother had always told her not to discuss family business with none family. And the Lady Maccon and a gorgeous man called Biffy were certainly not family.

"I'm here to see Major Channing." Winter repeated. Winter had survived being black in America. She could survive this severe looking woman.

The woman's brown eyes glinted. Winter gulped. Something about the way she was being looked at caused something in Winter to want to whimper and roll over so the woman could scratch her belly. She didn't know what it was.

She caved. "My mom died nearly three months ago and there was nothing for me back home so I hopped the first ship and then dirigible from Spain to find the Major. Its been the most vexing journey. I hate flying." Though she did love her goggles.

Lady Maccon's eyes softened. "I'm sorry to hear that, but why are you here. What does Channing have to do with your mother?"

"He's my dad." The one called Biffy rightly fell out of his chair. The Lady's mouth fell open then closed with a snap.

"Biffy will you entertain oh um dear me what is your name?" Alexia stood up. This had the makings of a spectacular scandal. The Major had only just announced his engagement.

"Winter Jones." Winter told her.

"Will you look after Miss Jones?" Biffy nodded and Alexia swept out of the room.

"I said something wrong didn't I?" Winter asked after the Lady Maccon had left.

"You couldn't have made a bigger splash if you had said the Queen was your grandmother." He said with a cherry smile.

It had been a dull couple of years for the Westminster pack since the Maccon's return to Egypt. After the world wind that happened after Alexia married Lord Maccon everyone thought the adventures would never end. Biffy was looking forward to a bit more excitement. It might even cause them to venture up north again. He did miss his Professor.

"Oh bother I just wanted to get to my dad is all." Winter hadn't planned on running into anyone else. She still had no idea what her father had to do with the Lady Maccon.

"This may seem indelicate, but my dear you're an American and if I am mistaken you are black." Biffy said.

"I am sure I'm not the first American in London. Though I do seem to be the only black person here. I can't explain it anymore than you can. I'm sorry."

There was a mighty crash in the hallway. Winter jumped up. Biffy and stood as well. The doors to the parlor room were snatched open. Lord Maccon in all his massive glory stormed into the room. Winter didn't know what it was but something primal in her roared awake.

She whimpered and dropped down on all fours. In a blink of an eye her hair moved down her body and turned to fur. Her mouth elongated and rendered human speech impossible. In the place of the little brown girl now stood the most beautiful red haired wolf any of them had ever seen.

Winter trotted over the Lord Maccon and rolled over to expose her tiny belly to him."Well doesn't that just take it all." Lady Maccon said as she stepped around her husband.


End file.
